Saint Patrick's Cathedral Under Repair

Iron frames preserve the immortality of a soul understood only in Latin and seen flickering through candlelight dancing off an icon’s eyes workers on the outside patch up stone people in the pews look down Why is it that we stare at the ground when we pray?

I want to press my palms against the cold stone floor feel for the heat lying beneath Do these peoples’ feet burn? I want to light a candle but I think I have to pay for that

Do the ones on the frames understand that the heaven they are climbing towards is also what they’re building does the man in the suit who glares at me know I’m looking for it too?

But that’s just the thing about humans we build ancient cathedrals in invincible cities and refuse to let them fall believing their eternity is here in the pews where we pray we look down and patch up

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